


lipsticks and boys

by littledust



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-25
Updated: 2005-11-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 04:30:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledust/pseuds/littledust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She remembers far too much, and in remembering, forgets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lipsticks and boys

Susan thinks of painting her face as enhancing who she really is, none of the subtle metaphors of masks for _her_ , thank you very much. Her eyes will always be windows to the soul no matter how she outlines them, and her lips will always say things she means no matter what brand of lipstick she wears (or doesn't). _My face is always my face_ , she thinks with a toss of her hair (lately brushed and curled) and a straightening of her skirt.

"Hello, Peter," she says on the stairs, on her way out to where the newest suitor waits on the curb.

He grabs her arm and gravity forces her back and back until she is leaning on him, looking up at him so much taller (for he is on the stair above her, always above her). His expression is pained and he says, "At least invite him in so we can meet him, Su. Aren't you ashamed that we never even _meet_ him?"

Susan lowers her eyes and they both know that it is always a different man each time, someone new and dashing and romantic, someone enchanted by such a pretty girl, someone who will be hurt when she never returns his calls. Somehow every suitor loses his magic after the first date, and she has long ago learned to simply cut the problem off before it truly begins. So much less painful that way.

"Do you remember--"

With that she wrenches free and runs out the door before Peter can finish the wretched question. He never shuts up about that place and they all cling to it like the last good thing that will ever exist. Her date for tonight looks so relieved to see her hurrying towards him, perhaps he thinks she's excited.

No, she does remember. She remembers dryads and mermaids and dances, remembers late nights and long kisses. She remembers far too much, and in remembering, forgets.


End file.
